the slow regard of silent things by patrick rothfuss

There are things you will have already heard about this book. You will have heard—because who does such a thing?! oh my! oh scandal!—that Patrick Rothfuss prefaces The Slow Regard of Silent Things (DAW, 2014) by telling you that you probably aren’t going to like it, that you should probably go read something else. You will have heard that it isn’t the third Kingkiller/Kvothe book for which you have been waiting so patiently for so long. You may have even heard that this book is a little weird.

But there are things you probably haven’t heard—because no one seems to be saying them (yet) (on the sites I read). So here we are. Even though this is a book blog that aims to put the spotlight on women and PoC and diversity in authors and books, and reviewing Patrick Rothfuss, a best seller and a white hetero dude, doesn’t really play into that. But you know what? This book needs a Feminist Geek Review. Because it’s beautiful and I loved it, but fucking hell, Pat, issues.

Pass not this line, ye who fear spoilers

I need to pick apart the nitty gritty details of this book, and so I am going to need to talk about those details. Though, granted, nothing actually happens in Slow Regard (aaand there was your first spoiler), that will be essentially spoilerly. So get the hell out of here and come back when you’ve finished the book. You’ve been warned.

Though The Slow Regard of Silent Things felt shockingly small in my hands (I knew it was short, but was still surprised by just how small it was), there is a lot to love. This is Auri’s book (Auri being a mysterious, shy, twee woman who lives in the tunnels under the university that Kvothe attends in the Kingkiller books), and Rothfuss tells readers that if they want to learn more about her, this might be a story for them after all. I like Auri, and while I was disappointed at just how little we ultimately learn about her in Slow Regard (and some of what we learn), I enjoyed reading a story that focuses on her life.

Being Auri’s story, Slow Regard uses Auri’s language—a very different style to the language you will find in the Kingkiller books. The prose attempts to mirror the character herself. It is poetic, winding, pregnant with meaning, sometimes with magic. Sometimes the meaning is only hinted at, the rippling surface of water whose depth we can’t measure. It might be a puddle pretending to be something deeper, but maybe beneath those words lies a lake, deep and dark and wide and filled with unspeakable wonder. We’ll never know because Rothfuss ain’t telling. At least not in Slow Regard. Take this passage, for example:

“Opening her eyes, Auri saw a whisper of dim light. A rare thing, as she was tucked tidily away in Mantle, her privatest of places. It was a white day, then. A deep day. A finding day.”

I enjoyed the style. It was often beautiful, and it felt a proper mirror of this strange person, even when it made little sense (especially when it made little concrete sense). But it also tended to repetition and in my reading notes I scribbled: “I’m glad this isn’t longer.” Doing in the Wizard (who is doing very detailed posts about their reading experience and doesn’t seem to like this book or any of Rothfuss’ other work) has some very good points in favor of this sort of writing being a detriment rather than a boon to the story. From a style-mirrors-content perspective, however, it works.

Speaking of Doing in the Wizard, their post brings me to my first point of contention with this story, something that came to my attention through their comments. In one of Slow Regard‘s first scenes, Auri skinny dips in a murky pool, searching for objects at the bottom. Exhibit A: instead of describing Auri as “naked,” Rothfuss opts to use the word “nekkid.” Why? The word is a stumbling block. Why are we suddenly speaking in slang? Rothfuss usually isn’t one to go messing about with existing language like this, inventing where inventing would serve no purpose or offer no further beauty.

Exhibit B: The chapter goes on to describe Auri’s nudity as such: “There was nothing peppermint about the cold stone edge. It was a dull, blunt bite against her tender altogether hindmost self.” Every time that Rothfuss attempts to describe her nudity, he just can’t seem to do it with a straight face and straightforward words. “Hindmost self”? Just say that she’s naked, Rothfuss, my pod. While Doing in the Wizard interpreted this as bad writing, I had the feeling that Rothfuss was not comfortable with her nudity. Every time he was required to look at Auri’s naked body and describe it, he couldn’t. Instead he blushed, held his breath, looked away, and typed with eyes closed until it was over and she was dressed. He seemed incapable of describing her as the adult woman that she ostensibly is. Auri may be one of Rothfuss’ favorite characters, but is she a mystery still, even to him? Does he have a crush? Is he uncomfortable in a room with her? Is he as afraid as Kvothe of scaring her off? I’d put money on all of those horses.

When she is clothed, Rothfuss seems to feel more comfortable with Auri, describing the flow of her days in the tunnels of the Underthing (basically the service tunnels beneath the university where Kvothe is busy learning magic). She is compelled to set the world right in a way that sounds like an intense case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. OR IS IT MAGIC?! One later moment in the story makes it unclear, though what I gather from interviews with Rothfuss on the subject, he means Auri to come across as a deeply broken soul.

Either way, the descriptions of her struggles with day-to-day functioning were one of the novella’s strongest points: they way the world shatters beneath her feet when something off kilter sets off her OCD and the way she feels compelled to find the perfect place for every object. Is Auri really capable of talking to objects? Of listening to what they say? Is she a master namer who has been driven to the brink by her power? Or is this a pleasant way of thinking (hoping) about an unpleasant mental condition? Rothfuss never tells us, and the text supports both readings.

Outside of her OCD, Auri is motivated by only one thing: the impending implied arrival of Kvothe. This is Slow Regard‘s most blatant feminist fail. We finally get to learn more about this mysterious, magical person, and her entire life revolves around the white dudebro storyhero?!? AGAIN? I would love to argue that Rothfuss didn’t mean it, that he is a better feminist than that (and he is a good feminist in many ways, but hey, we’re all at different places in our journey on that road), but Kvothe’s presence in Auri’s story as motivation and savior is made pretty clear by the fact that her thoughts on his arrival take up the first five sentences and the beginning of almost every chapter thereafter.

“When Auri woke, she knew that she had seven days.

“Yes. She was quite sure of it. He would come for a visit on the seventh day.”

Can you hear my sighs across the internet? Can you see me putting my head in my hands? Rothfuss promises a story about Auri, and gives us a story about Kvothe: savior, motivator, shaper of poor, broken Auri’s life. Rothfuss was worried that readers would be disappointed by Slow Regard because “It doesn’t do a lot of the things a classic story is supposed to do.” He shouldn’t have worried about that. He should have worried about portraying the life of a female character, in the frame of her own story, as being driven by the male character who this book wasn’t even supposed to be about. I love this book, but this is a serious fucking problem.

How much better would it have been to show a woman—yes a broken, struggling-to-survive woman, you don’t have to remove those aspects to make her strong, to remove the strings that attach her to Kvothe on every page—who was getting through shit, not on her own because interdependence doesn’t have to be a bad thing, but not just because savior dude has come into her life. How much better would it have been, from a feminist perspective, to see what Auri’s world without Kvothe is like? How much would I have liked to read a story about her life before the tunnels, or her life when she first moved into them? It wouldn’t have included Kvothe, it wouldn’t have made Auri feel like a damsel in distress, and it would have shown us a hell of a lot more back story than Slow Regard gives us. I mourn the death of the possibility of that story, and then I think: maybe it isn’t such a bad thing that Rothfuss has still left so much of her back story out. To the fan fiction mines! This can all be so easily corrected.

Next serious fucking problem: one of the few things we learn about Auri’s past is that she was probably raped. The event is barely mentioned, just a sentence, a memory of being held down and wine on a repulsive man’s breath, the classic “look this character was raped but I’m not going to come out and say it” signposts. This is the only thread we are given to explain her current state. This is a pretty old, tired trope, and here it feels like a cop out. Auri is weird, Auri is broken, Auri can’t function in society because…Auri was raped. This is such a over-used trope it has its own entry on tvtropes and is something that apparently needs to be discussed again and again. While I don’t feel that Rothfuss hints at it lightly or as “a cheap effect for drama,” I do feel like it was a decision he didn’t have to make. The man has invented a universe that has its own fucking currency, and he couldn’t come up with a less tired back story? He has already proven that his imagination is capable of better. Can you hear my echoing sighs? CAN YOU?!

You know what else? Auri eats acorns without processing them. This is barely notable in comparison to my last two points, but I just…how can Patrick Rothfuss be one of those people (or all the dozens of beta readers he says he uses, or his editor and proofreader and copy editor) who doesn’t know that you can’t eat fucking acorns without processing them?! (Sorry, incoming reviewer pet peeve.) They are full of this bitter shit called tannins, and you need to leech them first, else risk limited ability to absorb nutrients, for one. The man describes the process of making soap in pages of detail, and then he feeds Auri unprocessed acorns. Geezus fucking fuck. Don’t do this to me, Rothfuss, just don’t.

So, you ask, how is it that I still think fondly of this story, a story that fucks up pretty badly more times than it should? For one, the tunnels. I have this thing about tunnels. First there was Neverwhere (Gaiman) and then there was every book ever written about real people living in the real tunnels beneath the skin of every modern city. I love that shit. It’s one of my things.

Second, the illustrations. Nate Taylor has provided wonderful illustrations for Slow Regard, and when I heard another blogger speculate as to whether this story would have been more successful as a graphic novel, I had to wonder myself. But though many might celebrate the loss of prose this might entail, I would mourn its absence.

Third, and most importantly, is Auri herself. Even a problematic telling of her story can’t make Auri any less magnetic as a character. If Rothfuss is capable of inventing a character like her, he must be capable of telling her story…though apparently not today.

In lieu of my usual nonsensical numbered rating, I offer you this parting question: WHAT THE FUCK IS A FOXEN?

I want to talk about this book with all the people. So I’m including a link up here for you to add your own reviews of this book (an any you have read and found interesting). I’ll be adding the reviews I have read as I come across them. For a slip of a book, there is a lot to discuss.

Nicolette Stewart is a writer, editor, and narrative designer based in Frankfurt, Germany. She is the author of The Hunt Frankfurt, and her work can be found in Hunt: Showdown, Robinson: The Journey, TOR Online, Tiny Homes: Simple Shelter, New Escapologist, and Mama Liberada. She currently writes full time for video game developer and publisher Crytek.

You Might Also Like

18 Comments

Della DeMarinis says:November 7, 2014 at 4:54 pm

Ha, ha, yes, I do hear your sighs resounding across the internet. All good points! I’ve only read Rothfuss’ first Kingkiller novel, and am surprised that Auri would become enamoured by Kvothe at all. Maybe it’s for the more digestible food he brings her 😉

🙂 It’s not that she’s enamoured, so much as her entire life revolves around him in this “he makes things better” sort of way. Enamoured sounds too much like a crush, and it doesn’t feel like that. I mean, once you get a look in her pantry, you can certainly understand how much she must appreciate the food he brings…

I was unsure how to feel about this book and I agree that this story could easily have taken place without Kvothe as motivator–Auri clearly does this stuff all the time in order to make her world a comfortable place for herself, so why not just that instead of because of a visit from Kvothe? But I have a feeling that the things that are glossed over in this story–her having been raped, and the implication that she is a powerful namer–will be major plot points in the third book. If that’s the case, I can forgive Pat for dropping those bombs without further mention. But not until I get to read that damn final book.

I really, really hope so, though I don’t have my hopes up at the moment. But that would be awesome. And maybe it will all be alright then. Maybe. I hope so. Oh pod I can’t wait for that damn third book. It is going to be a total bomb. Hopefully in the good sense of the word. Like fireworks.

> Auri clearly does this stuff all the time in order to make her world a comfortable place for herself

Auri clearly does this stuff because that is who she is. She doesn’t make the world a comfortable place for *herself*… she even considered herself selfish for wanting to keep one clean sheet from a ‘treasure trove’ linen drawer because the sheet ‘belonged’ in the drawer. That’s how she spends her days, gently interceding when the word gets slightly out of place, never taking anything for herself without first earning it by putting the world in a configuration where everything is in its right place and the thing she takes is no longer needed by the drawer or mantle or wherever it originally Belonged.

Which is what she does for Kvothe, too. Gently shaping the world to give him a place where he Belongs.

Auri might be the most powerful person in her world. When she finally has reason to speak the Name of something, it is a simple, joyous righting of the world, not forcing her will on the world but arranging the world so the newly-named thing is in harmony. It’s like the world acknowledges her efforts and gladly moves at her command on the rare occasions she requests that.

From the first linky link: “Slow Regard is its own defense, a charming, lyrical meditation on the meaning of home: how we define it, how we carry it with us, and how we deal with the lure and fear of what lies beyond.”

From the Geek Dad link above: “I live with a certainty that the grocery lists in the Rothfuss household are full of colorful expressions and fun turns of words that make restocking the pantry an altogether enjoyable experience. But, when I first finished the book, I was a little unsure of what to think.

“I believe those empathetic to Auri’s quirks will appreciate the book more than others. There will be others who simply appreciate great writing and will gain great joy out of reading the story. And, without a doubt, there will be some who hate the book because Kvothe is not in it and, while you’re at it, finish the damn story.”

A really interesting thought from the Fantasy Faction review: “It leaves me wondering whether Auri and her pursuit of perfection is an allegory for Patrick Rothfuss’s pursuit of perfection with The Kingkiller Chronicles. Being a writer is lonely job. You spend the vast majority of it in a world that no-one else can see or share. Around you the world is going by, mostly unaware of your struggles, whilst you are far removed from it. Once you get to the editing stage, like Rothfuss is, everything that surrounds you is roughly in place, but not quite. Like the toy soldier Auri finds on the floor, a sentence may be OK if left in one location, but until you put it in its correct place, in the correct paragraph – or the toy soldier on the correct shelf, in the correct room – it will bother you.”

I went scouring the internet looking for a review that says the things that you are saying, so thank you. I would like to add that Rothfuss wrote a story about a tiny, broken girl here, and then went on to essentially say that its for all the people, like him, that feel broken in this way. I think thats valid but I also think about all the times women in fantasy have been physically tiny and broken? Its something I hate. And jeez, how neat would a story about a tiny broken man be? But he didn’t write that story. He wrote this one. Feminist fail. I also loved the book, I loved the writing, the exploration of Auri’s inner life, and the goddamn Underthing, and her magic. I generally respect Rothfuss’ portrayal of women but am sad to see that when centering a woman in his story he felt the need to make her physically as well as emotionally small and fragile, actually secretly centering it around a man, and only hinting at her personal power. It’s also clear that he is fetishizing her mental illness and body type, which to me is extra gross.

Finally I’m wondering if anyone has given him feedback from a feminist perspective? He seems particularly responsive to fans and I think it would do him some good.

Your comment made me really happy! A big reason that I feel compelled to write these things is hopes of finding like-minded folks, and you found this for exactly that reason, and that is awesome.

That is a really good point, about the small, broken woman thing. Might as well be a trope at this point. It would be fucking great to read a story about a small broken man written beautifully, you are so right there. Someone suggested to me that maybe some of this will suddenly make more/awesome sense after book three, but I was under the impression that he wrote this because we aren’t going to get any/many answers about Auri there.

It is a good question as to whether anyone has offered him feminist-specific feedback. He has so many beta readers that I have a hard time believing that no one has, and feel kind of nervous at the thought of offering it myself. But he says he is a feminist and if no one has pointed any of this out to him—and I haven’t found any other reviews that are saying these things or looking at it from this angle either yet—then someone certainly should, huh?

[…] the story still ties into some of the key issues that disrupt my experience of reading his work. Nicolette Stewart explains it at Book Punks better than I can, but as the story progresses, I find myself foundering on the fact that Auri […]

[…] and the Bogus Identity Volume 1 by Mike Carey and Peter Gross 78. Fledgling by Octavia Butler 79. The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss 80. The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Half by Catherynne M. […]

You make some very valid points…in particular – I like your insight into Pat’s crush and shyness towards Auri.

However, I don’t think she obsesses with Kvothe. I don’t think she woke up the day before and thought “8 days until he arrives.” There is something about the numbers 3 and 7 (and the subsequent factors 6…9…18…21…etc). Ultimately those 7 days led her to creating a space for Kvothe which I believe will tie directly into his expulsion from the University.

To me, it feels like this book is being written as Kvothe returns from Ademre. I think you nailed it on the head with Auri being a crazy master namer and I believe that she is demonstrating another kind of magic. Throughout all of Kvothe and Auri’s exchanges there are always gifts given…this showed how much effort she put into it.

I somehow missed the comment about the ‘rape’ but although it can be implied…it’s not specifically stated. For some reason, I just don’t want to believe that she was. I think I care too much about Auri for that.

A Foxen…I’m thinking is either just a sympathy lamp she named or something her naming ability brought into being using a separate magic.

[…] I felt like I managed to say exactly what I was thinking and in depth, was probably that for Patrick Rothfuss’ Slow Regard of Silent Things. I loved every episode of Science Fiction Mix Tape, but the best of all was Story Hour with John […]

I really liked your review. I don’t generally read feminist reviews (or explicitly feminist revjews) but this was on the first page and it looked interesting.

There are a couple of things I wanted to address that I think you are looking at a little wrong.

Firstly The altogether hindmost self. I really like this phrasing and the other phrasing that is used to describe her nakedness. Like you said, this is a book told and narrated from her perspective. She is someone who is not comfortable with her body. The next day she walks miles round to avoid a room with a mirror so she doesn’t have to see herself. She is not comfortable saying bum (which altogether hindmost self refers to, not just being naked). I don’t defend nekkid . That’s just silly.

Secondly the rape thing. I dint think she was raped. The other girls on the book mention that as girls in the university it’s not a nice place. Men get handsy and you have to be ready to defend yourself. I think this is what is being referred to rather than her actually being raped. I imagine to auri having someone enter her personal space would be as mentally horrific for her as rape (not to belittle rape).

Thirdly, the first character you come across who is cracked is alder whin, the broken arcanist of elodin. His story would be great but less interesting. He bangs his head against a white padded wall all day and won’t leave his unlocked room.

Fourthly the foxen is a ring. Probably the ring of taborlin the great. To along with the staff and the cloak.

Fifthly, I think auri is a strong female character. She managed without kvothe but before he Named her her crackedness was more pervasive. He is literally the one who brought sunshine to her life. If you want rape of a character look at that. He came from outside and could tell from looking at her everything about her. Personally I’d put it under magic but it’s worth looking at. I think it’s only natural if their relationship is so based on gift giving then as a strong character she would want to find gifts of equal (and arguably much greater) value to give him.

Anyway I did like the blog and I’m a little tipsy. Hope this doesn’t sound antifeminist, I’m not into that.

It struck me that Auri is preparing to save Kvothe, not the other way around. She is preparing a safe space for him and mentions she will craft him his new name (p147). Perhaps in doing so, she will help hide him from danger (maybe this new name is suppressing his music, sympathy, true nature, etc.) until the time comes for him to reclaim it.

A shelf where he could put his heart (p145) – could mean a place to store his lute safely

I’m reading this post AGES after it was written but would love to add my two cents worth (or is that 20 cents? Inflation these days…)

* I think that, because this is Auri’s story, the description of her nakedness is more from her own point of view, how she see’s herself when all in the nude. She strikes me as one who, with all her issues, wouldn’t want to hang on too tightly to views of herself as naked. she spins out beautiful words to cover what, in essence, are your bawdy basics. I see it as sweet, a cute way of viewing your all over! ^_^

* I think this story isn’t exactly feminist, no, but we came to her at the point when, to Auri, something exciting was happening! Kvothe! You can tell she’s enamored with him and just loves the games they play and the human interaction! she’s been alone for ages and now someone has found her and seems to understand her! How wonderful!!
I suspect that, if ‘he’ had been a ‘she’ Auri would still have been as excited and joyous at the thought of ‘her’ visiting! I know this feeling, I have it every day for my husband, and for doing nice things for people I love! We hear her story right at this point, and to me, it shows more of her than ‘just another day’ sort of story. I love her cute enthusiasm! Her eagerness, even with all that’s happened, to help out a fellow human being she feels she can finally trust.

* As to rape being a tired old chestnut? With one in four women raped, it’s a pretty exacting back story. Not everyone can bounce back from something like that. If you are already fragile, studying a magic that makes you more so, and then THAT happens, well heck yes, the fact she ended as she did I can fully understand! Imagine all that on your mind everyday? I think it’s dead tasteful that it’s mentioned in such a way that you can almost over look it, almost like how Auri has ALMOST managed to remove it from her mind. Almost.

* To be fair, the unprocessed acorns irked me too!! Either the girl has the digestive system of a truffling pig or she’s going to have a nasty time of it later that day! Hope she has loo paper squirreled away in there…

All in all, I loved the book, the character, the settings and the all together everything!

About Book Punks

Book Punks are feminists, anarchists, nomads, critical thinkers, academics, high-school drop outs, free-spirits, freaks, geeks, pirates, and bohemians. Book Punks are writers, librarians, editors, time travelers, magicians, book sellers, and lovers of the written word. Book Punks are obsessive, kind, respectful, subversive, and open-minded.

We are Book Punks.

There is no room on Book Punks for sexism, racism, anti-semitism or any of the other fucked up "isms" trolling about the internet. Keep your bullshit to yourself. Bring an open mind, and we can talk about all the speculative fiction that we love (and sometimes hate).